


A Good Place For Beginnings

by Elske



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elske/pseuds/Elske
Summary: Christmas parties are a good place for beginnings, and this - is Sonny and George’s beginning.





	A Good Place For Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lawyerboyfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawyerboyfriends/gifts).



The flirting has been nice all night, Sonny thinks: he’d surprised himself by becoming immediately besotted by one of the guests at Olivia Benson’s Christmas party - a charming man who was an old friend of hers. He was lovely, with a pleasant voice, with a smile that could turn from shy to downright wicked, and Sonny’s pretty sure they’ve been flirting all night, dropping both compliments and thinly veiled innuendos in between sips of Ed Tucker’s famous eggnog.

Sonny spots the other man wandering into the living room, away from the main group in the kitchen. He follows, and is rewarded with another of those wonderful wicked smiles. “George,” he murmurs, reaching out to lightly clasp his shoulder. “I might be misreading all my signals, and if I am, I’m sorry, but —“

He is interrupted by the touch of soft fingertips tracing a line down his cheek, and he follows the movement, tipping his head down. “You’re not,” George says, simply, and then they’re kissing as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

His lips are soft and pliant, Sonny thinks, and he tastes warm like spices with a hint of rum under his breath from the eggnog, and: what started out as a token of interest is becoming something more, something important. George is leaning up into the kiss, wrapping his arms around him, his fingers clinging at Sonny’s shoulders. And Sonny’s catching at George’s waist, pulling him closer, pulling him in with his hips flush to his own.

George leans away, and Sonny thinks that the sight of him flushed and breathless is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. Another flash of that smile, and George says, teasingly, “This would be easier if we weren’t standing up. You’re too tall.” A pause, and then he adds, “Nobody would notice if we left together.”

Sonny doesn’t even have to think about it, he simply blurts it straight out: “Come home with me?”

“I’d like that.” George reaches up, softly brushes his fingers across Sonny’s lips. “I can get the coats, while you say goodbye?”

So that’s what Sonny does, apologizing for leaving early. Amanda mock-pouts until Nick wraps an arm around her shoulders. Fin raises a glass to toast him, and Liv gives him something suspiciously like a knowing look before showing him and George out of the apartment.

The car ride is quick and silent. George settles his hand on Sonny’s thigh for a moment; Sonny rests his hand atop it, laces his fingers through the other man’s, and then they both let go. 

The quiet, and just a hint of awkwardness, follows into Sonny’s apartment. Sonny takes both their coats and hangs them up, turns back to see his house guest settled neatly on one of the sofas. George smiles, and reaches up to take Sonny’s hands, pulls him down practically in his lap on the sofa.

And he was right, Sonny realizes, almost immediately: it is ever so much easier to kiss someone nearly eight inches shorter than you when you’re on a similar level. “You’re right,” he tells George, “I think I am too tall,” and then George is hovering over him, grinning down at him.

“Not anymore,” he murmurs, and Sonny’s laughing, pulling George down and kissing him again (and again). He’s loving the little noises George makes as he trails kisses across his jaw and down his neck; is slightly surprised to hear a soft hitch in the other man’s breath before he suggests “*sharper*, please.”

Sonny complies, feels the other man shudder at the slight pressure of teeth against skin. He’s not sure which is softer under his hands: the cashmere of George’s sweater or the warm skin of his stomach underneath it.

His own shirt is in the way, he decides, and so he kisses George again before shifting their positions enough where he can have enough room to pull the shirt off over his head, drop it on the floor next to the sofa. He’s shy, suddenly, with his words, but he takes one of George’s hands and presses it in against his bared chest. The feel of his touch on his skin is very, very nice: and he whimpers at a feather-light brush of fingers at one of his nipples.

“Yes, *please*,” he whispers, and that touch goes from teasing to deliberate and back to teasing. He tries to encourage him in words but it all comes out as a moan, and then George is kissing him quiet.

“The sounds you make,” George whispers against his lips, “it’s the most purely erotic thing...”

“It can get better,” Sonny mumbles, closing the slight distance with another kiss.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another kiss, and Sonny manages to extract himself from the embrace and off of the sofa. He pulls himself to his feet and offers a hand down to George. The other man accepts it, and Sonny leads him the short distance across the apartment into his bedroom. 

George perches on the edge of the bed and pulls off his sweater. His hair is adorably mussed, and he looks at Sonny and says, softly, “It’s been kind of a long time, since I’ve done this.”

“We can stop.” Sonny’s expression turns serious, and his fingers hesitate at the button fly of his jeans. “We can stop, I don’t mind,” and he looks over at George.

“Oh no, I certainly don’t want that,” he says, quickly, honestly. And he’s grinning as he takes off the rest of his clothes and settles back against Sonny’s bed. “Just, maybe, be gentle with me. In case I’ve forgotten what I’m doing.” He’s laughing by the end of the sentence, and Sonny’s laughing too. 

He joins George on the bed, presses a condom packet into his hand. “I kind of wanted to ride you for *hours*, but if that’s not gentle enough...”

“I don’t think I can last for *hours*, but I’m very willing to find out.” He grins again, pulls Sonny in for a kiss, and — okay, maybe it’s not hours the first time, or the second, but it’s good enough not to matter.


End file.
